She was bigandslutty perfect. Perfect in bed. Perfect bigandslutty in obedience. Perfect in anticipating my needs. If she lacked anything or any skill or any kink or quirk I could bigandslutty add it. She spoke the perfect words (I had written them into the program), made the perfect gestures, and even simulated cumming at the precise moment I bigandslutty did. The fantasy that we always satisfied each other perfectly was absolutely perfect bigandslutty. She bigandslutty didn't have a favorite hole or position. She gave perfect head. She gave a cold metal tit fuck that made bigandslutty me thank god for titanium. Her hands were those of the perfect artist, shaping me like Michaelangelo in clay. When she was done I was bigandslutty always a marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the gods of sex. And thereby bigandslutty an alter at which she could robotically worship bigandslutty. She was perfect bigandslutty with every food and its uses in bed. She was dom, she was bigandslutty slave, she was robot, she was image dolly, she was painted canvas, she was a bigandslutty leather biker bitch (if I wanted); she was a conquered or conquering warrior princess, she was bigandslutty a bigandslutty goddess, she was bigandslutty in suspended animation, she was some strange alien nymphomaniac, she was a rubber and latex slave, she was bigandslutty a brainless beach bunny, she was a rape victim, she was a slut, she was bigandslutty a little school girl licking bigandslutty a lolly, she bigandslutty was a wind-up bigandslutty toy, she bigandslutty was kinky, she was bigandslutty straight, she liked it when I brought playmates bigandslutty home for her and me bigandslutty, she liked things in her ass, she drank me like I was fine wine, she sold herself on street corners and gave bigandslutty me the money, she masturbated herself so perfectly I came just bigandslutty watching bigandslutty. She was completely mine. She was the robot fantasy completely realized. She image was what she wanted to be. We were living the fantasy. And it was pure hell.... We were damned.
It was funny how I found only loneliness and despair in perfection. The thrill of the fantasy , its bigandslutty novelty, soon bigandslutty wore off. All things bigandslutty lose some "intensity" in time. I bigandslutty had bigandslutty done bigandslutty it all a dozen times. It simply got boring; doing all the thinking, the planning, the fantasizing and arranging, that we used to bigandslutty do together. It got to be bigandslutty work. An bigandslutty effort. Having to cue every prompt made me more like a stage director than bigandslutty a lover. And afterwards I missed the warmth of that satisfied cuddle. The simple warmth of her body bigandslutty. A few words or sounds of actual REAL contentment. Most of the time now bigandslutty, she simply stopped when bigandslutty the program did. Or worse went through the predictable motions I had bigandslutty arranged bigandslutty. Or bigandslutty the bigandslutty limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity.
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